The Country Manor of Iowa

This is the first short story that I created in almost four years. In that time, my poetry has being outgrowing the amount of my stories. The real-time tale that inspired the story is quite amusing. Whereas the moment after that event, I began writing the first two pages. This story is unlike any other that I wrote. Since age ten I’ve been reading classical literature and I’ve decided to put this in an elder form of English, and I’m only seventeen. This story is my groundbreaking one, a horror/suspense short story, unlike any of my mystery ones. But truly, if anyone thinks of it, all genres are interconnected into mystery. I hope the reader enjoys, for as all that I’ve shown are amazed at how well it is written. It is copyrighted so no stealing. Even though that it may look REALLY long, it is only fourteen pages long. I also did the cover art which took me just about three hours to entirely. Comments are greatly taken.

“Vieta!”

A young black girl walked into the room, she must’ve been my age. She looked quite similar to Olphie, except her clothing was brown and not white. She looked quite attractive also.

“Can I please have a cold glass of milk?”

“Yes you may” she said as she took the glass from me, walked away and was back in no more then forty-five seconds. I thanked her and complemented on her beauty. She obliged happily and walked out of the stateroom.

At this point of the morning, no one else was awake. And so I sat there for a period of time. The sun slowly began to rise up into a peeking gleam. A young man of whom I didn’t know, walked in, he looked like one of the young men from my nightmare.

“Good morning sir” he said to me.

“Good morning” I acknowledged.

“How was your sleep?” he sat down in an armchair across from me.

“Yes, it was quite fine” I lied.

“Sleep is very informative, is it not?”

“It quite is”

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m James Miller. I am twenty-four years old and I have not seen a traveler in a very long time”

“What do you mean?”

“Well……..I’ve been wandering this property for the past century…..without my body. I was crucified by bandits who we thought were just visitors on vacation”

I hesitated, was I truly talking to a ghost? An actual spirit? An apparition? I didn’t know what to say. It took me a few seconds of hesitation to speak.

“So everyone in this house is a ghost?”

“Correct, me, my father, my mother, my sister, our servants and all of those who were in attendance of the ball. Which is where it all took place. The only ones who aren’t rotting with us on the property are the three gunmen who murdered us in the first place.